The Bodyguard of Elessedil
by Reluctantly Untitled
Summary: Starting after the events of "Warlock" - Ander Elessedil is rescued from river and by death by a mysterious figure in black. A year later, the figure returns to become his new bodyguard and make sure that Ander is using his second life well. With a unnamed figure coming back to the Four Lands with a vengeance, can Ander and his new bodyguard stop butting heads and save the land?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The river was soft and quiet. It was as if it was providing some respect to the task it has been forcible given. The task of carrying two royal bodies down the river.

The bodies of Queen Tamlin of Leah and King Ander Elessedil of the Elves glided slowly down the river. Tamlin's strength stayed with her to the very end, haven chosen to not let Riga's minions force her down the waterfall but instead went into the open embrace of death, and thus was taken quickly.

Ander Elessedil, on the other hand, was a very different case entirely. Ander Elessedil, the youngest son, who was never meant to have sat on the throne but he did. Ander Elessedil, the playboy, who lost his entire family before his eyes, could have ran away but he did not. Ander Elessedil, the care-free man, took on the burden of an entire nation during war and after war, died while doing what he thought was right. He had forsaken his love, Catania, to make sure his people could prosper once again, was thought to be killed – stabbed by the heartless General Riga on his wedding day. Though many events had happen in the short life of Ander Elessedil, being completely dead wasn't one of them, just yet.

Further down the Silver River, a place where the golden palace of Leah was just a headache when looked upon, stood a figure in black. The figure in black was impatient and tapped their right foot in annoyance. The sereneness of the alcove and its prettiness did nothing to sooth the growing anger of waiting within the figure in black.

"By the Ellcrys, why can't it ever be on time when I need it to be? I've spent two days waiting here."

Indeed the figure had been standing there for two days straight, but the annoyance was not from fatigue or hungriness, for the figure never felt them. The annoyance came from the task to be done and it was time sensitive. Very time sensitive.

At long last in the rising light of the dawn, the two royal bodies came into view of the figure in black. The underwater currents, just like death, took the two bodies into two different directions. Queen Tamlin of Leah carried on her final journey that ultimately lead her to the Ocean. For Ander Elessedil, on the other hand, the journey to the ultimate peace would take a diversion or two, four at the max. His body was taken to the alcove where the figure of black was, and was thus, forcibly grabbed by his left arm and forced onto the cold, dewy, grass. If Ander could have groaned from the pain, he would have, but being mostly dead he decided it wasn't worth it. After all death was near, by sheer chance he fell safely into the river, taken little to no water into his lungs. The water was cold and he had let himself take comfort in its numbing properties and its ability to finish off what Riga had started. He did not count on, however, the medium sized figure in black giving him a telling off for doing just that.

"By the Ellcrys, did you just let him use you as a pincushion?" The figure of black said with air of annoyance. "Why not just leap on the sword and say bon voyage? It would have been damm quicker and easier to fix."

Ander could not see the figure in black. After all he was mostly dead, and only at that moment, the smallest portion of his soul was still tethered to his body. Though he could certainly hear them, loud and clear. Whoever it was, their voice was a strange mix of the common highland and of the royal accents in his kingdom. It was something Ander had not heard before and for the remaining life in him, he did not know where it could have come from. While noting this, as one of his final thoughts, Ander was suddenly blinded by blue light.

If the stranger's voice was perplexing, then the blue light was a mystery beyond his understanding. The blue light was the opposite of the river. While the river froze him, the blue light warmed him. While the river had lovingly numbed him to death, the blue light harshly awakened the pain in his body to life. On the whole Ander Elessedil was ready to jump back into the river again, in less than a minute.

Ander felt a tingling in his chest and then a painful and sudden THUMP. This was his stab wound healing and his heart coming back to life, though he was unware of that. It was the opposite that had happened when Riga had stabbed him. The tingling was all over his body as the rest of him, who had just been getting used to the slow, near full stop, of circulation of blood, suddenly became from a snail to a wild stallion in mere seconds. His fingers started to twitch with excitement of coming back, his toes similar but they were more constrained from within his shoes.

With a sudden arch of his back, Ander Elessedil, King of the Elves breathed once again. He had beaten death but now as he opened his eyes, he only wondered one thing.

Who the hell was this figure in black given him a face of pure annoyance?

* * *

 **This takes place slightly during but mostly after the events of season two of "The Shannara Chronicles", where most of the events I disagreed with wholeheartedly. I have decided to try to give Ander a more fitting story and I hope you enjoy! Comments are very much wanted.**

 **Reluctantly Untitled**


	2. Chapter 1

**A Few Months Later**

Mareth paced in front of the throne at Arborlon. To say that the last few months were difficult, would be the biggest understatement in the known world. After the events of Heaven's Well and losing Wil, Mareth was unsteady in her place in this new world. While on her quest to defeat the Warlock Lord, she heard of her father and Wil speak of Ander. Being her cousin, she was naturally interested in this side of the family that she had never known and that her mother kept secret from her. When she was left Heaven's Well without Wil, she sought to seek out her last remaining family member. Mareth was in for a shock. She remembered it like it was yesterday.

Making her way to her mother's childhood home, the Palace of Arborlon, the seat of the royal family. She expected to see this infamous cousin of hers and hopefully with open arms. She did find open arms but not those of her blood. Instead she found a city in mourning. The shining brightness of the city was darkened by the passing of the king, only she did not know that just yet. The only light she found was from the Ellcrys herself, and even then Mareth felt a deep sadness from deep within the stoic tree of legend. Mareth approached the Palace gates fully expecting to be at least be rejected two times, so she was surprised when they seemed to recognise her by sight. Mareth was more surprised when they escorted her to the middle of throne room and, to not find Ander Elessedil there, but Kael Pindanon.

The woman wore all black clothes, her hair hidden in a funny vertical hat but her blue eyes locked Mareth into place. She stood by the Throne, her right hand just mere millimetres from touching the right side of the throne. Though she was in black and supposed to be in mourning, Kael Pindanon looked like all her birthdays arrived at once. She glided down the throne steps and towards Mareth. Mareth, may have been extremely confused on the situation but one thing was clear – she did not like this woman.

"Welcome Child" said Kael Pindanon. "Welcome to your home, your birth right."

"Who are you? Where is the King?" Mareth asked, her frustration at this confusing mess was evident in her tone of voice.

"My poor child. Did no one tell you?" Kael Pindanon was barely containing her grin at this point.

"Tell me what? I do not understand" Mareth was desperately resisting the urge to take her staff and make this unknown woman speak the truth.

"The King is dead"

Silence rang through the throne room. Mareth was in shock. Shock at having her hopes dashed once again. Shock at feeling like a fool for not recognising before with the city in black. Most importantly of all, shock that she had lost another person from her life. Sure, she didn't know Ander personally, but he was still the last remaining family that she had left. Her mother, dead, her father, dead, the love of her life, equally dead. Death seemed to follow her like an unwelcome companion.

"We've been looking for you, ever since we found out that Pyria had birthed a child. We searched high and low for you. We gathered enough information to at least get a description of you to the guards, hence why you were brought here" Kael Pindanon gestured her arms around the throne room, while inching closer to Mareth.

"But why me? Who is this "We" you are talking about?" Mareth asked. "And who the hell are you?" Mareth could feel this woman's presence, which felt like it wanted to take hers away. Mareth reached for her staff, ready should this woman try anything.

"My name is Kael Pindanon. I am a member of the Elven High Council, the collective "We" I was talking about. We were searching for you because you are last Elessedil left in the Four Lands and thus are our Queen." Kael Pindanon grinned, trying but massively failing to be sympathetic to the confused Mareth.

"I cannot be your Queen" Mareth stated firmly and she squared her shoulders to reinforce her point. "I am the next Druid like my father before me, and a Druid cannot be a ruler". Mareth grinned while saying this, sure now that her point was across. So Mareth was confused on why Kael Pindanon of the Elven High Council was still smiling.

"Now that is a shame" Kael Pindanon's tone portrayed anything but that to Mareth. "The Council has tried its hardest to restore hope to its people, in the wake of recent events, but sadly we are failing. Sure we have the money from the Kingdom of Leah to restore and rebuild buildings and businesses. Unfortunately, money cannot return hope back to the heart." Kael Pindanon had now reached the centre of the room where Mareth was and, it felt to Mareth like she was towering over her, even though they around the same height.

Mareth could hear whispers behind her, urgent voices and harsh shushes. She looked over her shoulder to see who it was but there was no one there. She heard the voices again and looking over her left shoulder, she deduced that the voices were coming from the door.

"That's your people, Mareth. They've heard the last Elessedil has returned. Don't you hear it? The hope in their voices? The hope of having a benevolent ruler back again." Kael Pindanon's words seeped into Mareth's heart like poison but even she couldn't deny the truth. There was hope in the voices. Hope because of her?

"Are you going to dash their hopes, yet again? I do not know how much more the people can take." Kael Pindanon's blue eyes bore straight into Mareth's soul. She knew she had Mareth right where she wanted her. "Won't you be their Queen and bring back hope again?"

Mareth looked down, more confused than she had ever been in her entire life. She did not know what to do. She wished Wil was here, and her father – they would know what to do.

"But Druids can't be rulers" Mareth's voice stuttered and she slowly raised her head back up, not looking at Kael Pindanon but instead at the throne. The marble throne gazed back at her, the ceremonial black sheet over it began to move with the wind, and as if it was telling her, yes she could.

"There is always a first for everything. Sure there will be some that are indifferent to your magical heritage but they will be drowned out by the ones that want you. Say yes." Kael Pindanon weaved her words carefully, making sure to pull on every heart string to play her melody. "Ander Elessedil died doing the right thing for this nation, for its people. It is what he would have wanted."

And there it was. The final nail in the proverbial coffin. Kael Pindanon saw the last piece of resistance leave Mareth's brown eyes. Mareth's shoulders slackened with the fight gone out of her and now feeling the weight of a nation on them.

Kael Pindanon took Mareth into arms into an unwelcome hug. "My poor child, do not worry I will help guide you." Mareth did not fight the hug back. She just learned, the first lesson of being a ruler. The needs of the people come before the needs of the ruler.

After that day Mareth's world had changed even more than expected. She had been forced to learn royal etiquette, the laws of the lands, its history, the people and that her life will never be hers again. It belonged to her people and she could not leave them. True to her word, Kael Pindanon did help guide her but even Mareth could see, that she was looking for puppet to pull the strings for. Mareth rebelled in little ways, she would state her input in the Council meetings even though Kael Pindanon hated it, and she would befriend her guards and the servants, and escape the palace to meet the people of the city. Technically Kael Pindanon could not reprimand her for those things, Mareth was simply doing what she should be doing – learning how to rule and be beloved by her people. Kael Pindanon could not fault her, she had even stopped practising magic though it burned inside her wanting to be released. The Crimson, while being awful pieces of lives, did show the elven people's growing fear over magic, because of the awful things it had brought to their lives over the last year or so. So Mareth stopped until she could find a place where she could practice safely, away from the prying eyes of her people and Kael Pindanon.

There was one hitch in Kael Pindanon having her puppet Queen. Mareth was an illegitimate child. According to law, only a legitimate heir of the throne could rule. This trivial distraction, however, did not deter Kael Pindanon. She had scoured the law books until she found an obscure law from centuries ago stating that if there was no legitimate heir to throne was found then an illegitimate one could be legitimatised to be the next heir. And today was that day, hence the pacing.

A few short hours ago, Mareth became Mareth Elessedil, Princess of the Elves and then next month, the Queen. Mareth was full of anxiety and anger. Anxiety because of the importance of event that had happened and what they had meant. Mareth knew that she had done this for her people, who she had come to love. Though being Mareth Elessedil meant the death of her old identity, of just being Mareth. The Mareth who wished to find her father, to control her powers and the Mareth who fell in love with Wil Ohmsford. There was no going back. She could not be the Druid she and her father wanted to be. She didn't even look like herself anymore. Gone were her comfortable travel clothes, and in their place a form fitting dark blue gown with tiny shoulder straps and, heels that felt more akin to a torture device then for walking purposes. Even her hair could not be saved, with it being let down for the occasion and she had to force a smile when they put the tiara on. Mareth knew that in a month she would endure the crown, but still she was not a tiara girl. Mareth felt anger because she knew she was being manipulated by Kael Pindanon but there was nothing she could do to stop the forthcoming events. Sure she could run away, be the Druid she wanted to be, but what would that achieve? Only her happiness would be guaranteed and she needed to stay and fight for her people. If she did not then Kael Pindanon would have her way, and by the de-facto ruler and that could not be. Kael Pindanon only cared about power, would the nation of elves be enough? She could plunge the nation into war to bring more power for herself, and Mareth could not do that to the elven people or the surrounding lands. She had built up a correspondence with Lyria, Queen of Leah in the last few months, looking for advice from one new Queen to future one. Mareth knew that Leah was still weakened from the Crimson's invasion and another one might cripple it. Mareth could feel anything she wanted today but she could not leave.

Mareth paced some more for three reasons. One, in the hope to work some of her anxiety out, two to wear down these damm heels down enough so that they will be at a comfortable height, and three because she was bored and had nothing to-do. Mareth had requested some alone time prior to the ball that was to happen and she had been given the throne room, while the ball would be in the ballroom a floor below. The Council had insisted on the ball to commemorate the legitimising event. To show the people, how royal Mareth could act. Mareth had been stuck in dance lessons for the last month. Even Kael Pindanon could not refuse the future Queen her privacy but Mareth knew that she was waiting outside, waiting to pounce on her as soon as she left the temporary haven of the throne room. The black sheet had been taken off the throne and it shone in the dying light of the sun. Still standing in the middle of the throne room, Mareth had been unable to bring herself to sit in it. It was hers now, but it did not felt right, like there was an invisible barrier around it. It had given her permission to be the ruler before but it felt it still had hope that its previous occupant would come back again. It seemed to reflect what some of the people wanted. The people had welcomed her with open arms, but they were hesitant around her. It was natural, they did not know her and known about Ander for most of their lives. She was unknown, the hidden Elessedil in Wing Hove. All they had known had disappeared around them, their royal family dead, and their way of life was drastically different then what they had been brought up with. Mareth had hope that with the signing of the legitimising papers a few hours ago, she brought some stability back into the people's lives. An Elessedil will rule the nation once again. Mareth hoped that it would be the first step in the right direction, even though it was not the right one for her.

All of a sudden Mareth heard a commotion coming from outside. There were voices once again, like those a few months ago, hushed whispers and fevered exclamations. Mareth went to the door, kicking her heels off along the way, and tried to hear what this commotion was all about. She didn't dare leave the room, in fear that it was a ploy by Kael Pindanon to get her out.

"It can't be true!"

"I don't believe it!"

"It must be a joke, a cruel magic trick!"

Mareth was curious and decided to leave the throne room. She stepped outside and saw no Kael Pindanon but instead a large group of servants huddled down the corridor. Mareth quickly made her way to the gathering of servants, her mind racing on what it could be. The servants parted when seeing her and she saw what they were all looking at.

There was a man lying on the floor passed out. He was tall, with dark hair, wearing a black sweater and black trousers. His face was for some reason was recognisable, though Mareth did not where from. She checked for a pulse and felt a strong beat. So this mysterious man was still alive but who was he?

Suddenly the man sprang to life, gasping for air like he awoke from a bad nightmare. He looked around with a face of confusion, perhaps wondering where he was and who all these people were.

"Okay everyone, back up let this man breathe for a minute" Mareth ordered to the servants, so that the man might calm down a bit. Mareth noticed he seemed ready to pounce on an unsuspecting but well-meaning servant.

"My name is Mareth Elessedil, what's yours?" Mareth hoped that the man knew, making this already long day a little easier.

"No its not" the man said firmly, still giving Mareth a look of confusion. His voice had a strong authority air sound to it.

"I can assure you sir that it is" Mareth said more firmly. Maybe he had suffered a head injury and his memory was a bit foggy.

"No it can't be, I know all the members of the Elessedil family, and I can assure you that you aren't one of them" the man's voice mimicked Mareth's tone. Mareth felt the anger rising up in her. How dare this man question her! The way he looked at her with his blue eyes, made her feel that she was the one with the head injury.

But before Mareth could further refute the man, crowd parted again on the left side where there was the Council and some guards. The man looked at Kael Pindanon with a flicker of recognition as did she with him. Who was this man?

"Kael Pindanon, who the hell is this person?" The man said taking the words out of Mareth's mouth. Mareth looked and felt flummoxed.

Kael Pindanon looked at Mareth then to the man.

"She is your cousin, Mareth Elessedil, child of Pyria and Allanon.'' Kael Pindanon gestured to Mareth, in doing so released a small strand of brown hair from her still funny looking hat.

"She is not my cousin!" the man stood up quickly, making his point. Sadly his point did not last long, as he proceeded to collapse on the floor. He was quickly picked up by one of the royal guards and taken away. Mareth tried to follow but was stopped by Kael Pindanon.

"He needs to be checked over by the healers first then you can see him" Kael Pindanon said calmly.

"Who was that man?" Mareth asked, feeling confused and impatient over what had just happened.

"That man is your cousin, Mareth. That man is Ander Elessedil" and with that said Kael Pindanon followed the rest of the Council members down the corridor, presumably to the Council room.

So that was the man that she had hoped to find, many months ago. Her last remaining family. The true heir to the throne, the ruler the people wanted. The solution to all of Mareth's problems. With Ander back, she could leave and practice her powers again, and be the Druid she was destined to be. Where had he been? There was so many questions, though there was something that a little more pressing to Mareth's plan.

Ander was not fit enough to stand on his own two feet.

How could he rule?

* * *

 **Here is the second chapter, as I forgot to mention before I do not own any of these characters except the ones not featured in the books and tv show.**

 **So there is a time jump, and further one in the next chapter and then time will stay steady from there.**

 **Reviews are very helpful to make sure that I am producing the best writing I can do.**

 **If anything seems amiss. like a plot hole waiting to happen please do tell me so I can fix it!**

 **Reluctantly Untitled**


	3. Chapter 2

**One Year Later**

Ander woke up with a loud GASP.

Lifting his top half up, Ander tried to relax his breathing, taking small gentle breaths.

In and out. In and out. In and out. In and out.

With a sigh Ander turned his head to the rising sun on his left. Like clockwork, Ander thought bitterly. It was always the same sequence of events. The Sun would rise, the nightmare would start and as soon as the sun reached the Ellcrys, Ander would wake. It was like being stuck in a sicking time loop, one that he could not escape from.

Ander rose from his sweat soaked sheets and peeled his nightshirt off, leaving him in his night trousers. He placed his bare feet onto the cold marble floor, relishing the feeling of coldness on his burning hot skin. Ander enjoyed the contrast between the two temperatures, an indicator that he was indeed awake and not still in that dreamlike hellhole. He walked his way to the window and gazed at the view before him. The Ellcrys shone bright with the light of the rising sun. Each little leaf representing a single demon, each of the large branches representing the demon lords, all of which was being held back by the Ellcrys, by Amberle. Ander looked down in sadness. He had missed Amberle terribly, in truth more than any other member of his family. After the death of Aine, he had raised Amberle, partly for the guilt he felt for his part in Aine's death but mostly for his love of his niece. He had been proud that Amberle wanted to be a member of the Chosen. Defying the royal protocol that they had been brought up with was a part of their shared bond. The rebellious royals of the great house of Elessedil, it was just the two of them. Now there was none of them.

Ander sighed again and looked back up to Ellcrys and gazed around the surrounding forests of Arborlon. It all seemed so quiet and peaceful unlike the chaos of his mind. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Ander did a lot of sighing nowadays. He reflected thoughtfully on how much he used to love the dawn. It linked his most treasured memories together. The wedding of Aine and his wife was a dawn ceremony, Amberle's first words were at dawn and it at the time of the rising sun that Catania and he said I love you for the first time. Now all the dawn brought was, ironically, darkness and sleepless nights. He shuddered at the memories of his waking nightmare.

It had always started the same. He would be walking down one of the endless white corridors of the Palace, and he would hear her laugh. Catania. He would start running towards her laugh and after what seemed like an age, he would find her in the throne room with her back turned from him. She would gazing at the throne like it was some shrine. She would be wearing a plain white dress, which flowed with an unfelt breeze along with her golden hair. It would contrast to Ander's own black shirt and trousers. He would call her name and though she looked happy to see him, Ander always noticed that a glimpse of anger in her eyes, as if he had disturbed her from her act of devotion to the throne. She would smile and move towards him and he would welcome her with opened arms. She would tilt her head upwards as if to kiss him and he would tilt his head to reach her lips. As always just before their lips would touch, she would whisper the question. Ander hated that question with his entire body. It made him ache in pain every time, it was uttered. A seemingly inane question that Ander had maybe heard in different variations throughout his life.

"What is my name?" Catania would always ask with her sweet voice. "Come on Ander, say it, and just say it. Say my name".

Catania would stare at him with her blue eyes intently. Ander would always laugh and say "Why it's Catania of course" and reach down to kiss her.

Catania loathed that answer, he could see the hate rise in her eyes. She would ask him the same question but this time her voice would not be sickly sweet. It would sharp and hard and urgent. Ander would step back from her and say again that her name was Catania, why was she doing this? He would continue to step away from her till his back hit the closed double doors. Catania would look at him with such disgust and her sweet face would sour, unlike anything that he had seen when they were together. She would edge closer and closer towards him, and he would feel trapped as a bug who had seen the impending doom of someone's boot coming towards them. When she finally reached him, the person Ander knew as Catania would be gone. Her blue eyes would be turned into soulless black voids. Her movements, usually graceful, were jerky and forceful, especially when she enclosed her hands around his throat. She would ask him to say her name continually, her voice dark and deep matching her eyes. Behind her back, the room would turn from shining bright white, to the darkest black. Only Catania's white dress, pale skin and golden hair would continue to illuminate his vision. Ander would feel suffocated by the imaginary hands and when he thought he would pass out from his dream world, he would awaken in the real one. The dawn like clockwork would had just hit the Ellcrys and Ander would awaken.

Night after night this would happen since he had awoken a year ago on the floor of the Palace. He had tried to stay awake through the night to avoid the daily nightmare but it would become a waking vision, which had led to him being restrained by the palace guards in the throne room. So Ander decided to numb the pain by drink. It was an ineffective solution but one that brought him some relief. Ander knew that his return to his old lifestyle was one of the reasons he had not assumed his previous title.

Both he and Mareth co-ruled the nation of Elves due to a political stalemate and in the interests of the people. Many had wanted Ander to return the throne. His act of placing his personal happiness and his sacrifice for the people had been greatly received. This led to many who previously had doubts about Ander due to his tolerance of magic after the demon rising, to realise that their king had been willingly to do what was necessary for them. They showed their gratitude every day and Ander could not thank them enough. Though there were still some that felt Ander was not capable for the responsibility of the throne, that he had already used his chance with them and another could not be given. Though these were small in number, their leader had a high standing in court. Kael Pindanon used the night terrors that plagued him to demonstrate that he was not in the correct state of mind to govern the nation. She also used the fact that Ander could not remember the months from his recorded 'death' to reappearance in the palace to further her point. Ander only remembered a figure in black that had pulled him from the Silver River, and that person had been annoyed at him and somehow healed him. Kael Pindanon thought this figure in black was figment of Ander's imagination. Mareth was the one that came to the solution that both she and Ander would co-rule under the titles of princess and prince respectively. There would be no King or Queen until a decision that benefitted everyone was made.

Ah Mareth, Ander thought. He smiled slightly when he thought of his newly found cousin. They had become each other rocks for the previous year, though their first meeting was less to be desired. Though they had become fast friends when she had first visited him in the infirmary. Ander never really had a best friend before, sure he had royal companions that were forced to be his friends but none that he would call a best friend. Mareth reminded him a lot of Amberle and the bond they shared. Though Mareth felt like the sister that Ander had always wanted. He would never have confused that with Amberle, she had too much of her father in her, for Ander to do that. Mareth was the person Ander could trust the most, both knowing that the other only wanted the best for them. Both knew that Kael Pindanon wanted Mareth on the throne as puppet figurine, to be act just as she willed. Ander knew the desire for the throne that Pindanon had, remembering ever so fondly of her coup when he had first assumed the throne. Mareth wanted Ander to assume the throne, to be the Druid that she was meant to be. Ander knew he had to get better for her but the terrors kept happening, and Ander found a safe haven of forgetting with the parties and the drink. He was not as bad as he was previously but enough to bring concern and be used as weapon by Pindanon.

The light of sun reached the top of the Ellcrys and Ander around to his wardrobe to pick his clothes of the day. He decided on a black shirt, black trousers and his dark blue coat with silver detailing around the edges of the garment. It was the people's day today and that meant looking more regal then Ander actually felt. Ander could not complain though, after all it had been his idea.

A few months ago, in the middle of another tedious High Council meeting, Kael Pindanon droned on with fake concern on Ander's mental health, yet again. For the thousandth time since he had arrived back to Arborlon. She had said something about how the people did not know the rulers and it was confusing that two legitimate heirs ruled at once, did one do all the work while the other claimed credit? She had glanced her eyes at Ander when she said about one taking credit that was underserved. So Ander had suggested that they would hear the grievances of the people two times each month, so that the people could one, meet the rulers and two, see how the joint ruling worked with their very eyes. Mareth had seconded the idea and among the other Council members it was agreed. Pindanon was secretly furious, she did not hide it well, but she still managed to put the fake smile on, as she always did. It was later titled as 'People's day' – a day where the people could have ask the monarchy for help and not be side-tracked by various offices and paperwork and legality. It was safe to say it had been a resounding success. The people loved that they could see their monarchs and for them to not be hidden by the large and slightly intimidating palace of Arborlon. The event had led to most people to renew their faith in the Elessedil family and in Ander's ability to still rule with the fairness of his father. Mareth enjoyed the days too, she was a fair ruler and with her upbringing could come up with solutions that Ander would not have been able to think of. She had once been one of the people and she used that to the benefit of the people. Though she could not use her magic, and Ander knew that killed her on the inside, she could still bring good to the land. Just not in the way she had wanted.

Ander quickly got changed, placed his black boots on and made his way to the throne room. He dreaded going to that place but it was the best place to hear the people. On his way he quickly looked out the window and see the queue starting at the palace's gate. He quickened his pace down the stairs and the corresponding corridors till he had arrived at the open doors of the throne room. As usual Mareth was there first, welcoming him with a smile and a hug. She had once again been forced into a dress, this time light blue in colour, but she had won the battle for her hair that was up in her usual style. They made their way to the two chairs placed at the front of the throne steps. Only when the other was indisposed, was when they sat on the marble throne. So the solution had been to for two chairs instead. The chairs were grand and regal enough, no one would think that they were anyone else bar royalty.

Ander felt good about today. Mareth noted that when she saw him. It was rare to get Ander feeling alright so near the morning. The nightmares seemed to have the ability to drain him of his energy. Secretly Mareth was looking for through old magic books, to see if his problem lied there. Maybe in the months that he was missing he had been cursed? Ander had mentioned a figure in black. Were they a sorcerer? Magician? Another Druid? Mareth did not know but she wanted to stop them matter what. That had meant using magic, something she knew that the people would not like at all. Some still held their prejudice against magic users, others learned tolerance but Mareth knew that the Elven nation was wary of magic due to the consequences it had brought to their lives. Mareth mentally prepared herself for the day ahead. Some grievances would be easy to fix, others impossible. Ander had shown her how to be diplomatic as possible but it still hit hard when there was a problem she could fix, if only she could use her magic. Mareth had been trying for the last year to realise that she was now regulated to a life without magic, but her heart held out and hope remained. Both she and Ander sat down, nodded at each other and prepared for what that day would bring.

Ander smiled for once feeling, that though the nightmare had been harrowing, he could still make it through the day. Who knows? Maybe Ander would not need to drink to allow himself to sleep? Ander felt a little hope, something he had not felt in a long time. Maybe, just maybe, Ander thought, today was the start on the right path.

What Ander didn't know, however, was that he had already made a huge mistake already. Ander should have looked a little closer at the crowd at the palace gates. If he had, he would have immediately recognised a figure in black clothes and a black cape.

A figure in black that was waiting and tapping their right foot impatiently on the ground.

* * *

 **Sorry for the longer wait, you know Christmas, New Year, work and exams, its been a bit hectic lately!**

 **As always reviews are very much welcome, and any ideas or problems that you can see will grateful to know about!**

 **Hope you enjoy and I should update for next month.**


	4. Chapter 3

The day had been long and tiring, Ander had felt like he had slowly become part of the chair. His people in their hundreds lay their grievances at the feet of their rulers. Some had been menial, others more perplexing. Some that were logical and well thought out, others that had Ander and Mareth try to stop the tears from flowing. Thankfully, all had a solution that was agreeable to all involved. On whole it was the more successful People's Day so far.

Now as the last few people dwindled down and exited the throne room, Ander could finally relax. He relaxed his shoulders and slowly – and unroyally – slumped in the grand hardback wooden chair that he had sat in all day, save for lunch. Ander could tell that Mareth was grinning at his actions and he smiled in response to that. They both looked at each other smiling, thankful that another successful day had passed. This reaffirmed their position and the trust that the people had placed on them.

Despite this bliss though something nagged in Ander's mind. He didn't know what it was. It was like he had remembered that he had forgotten something but couldn't remember what. It made Ander slightly afraid, little doubts in his mind on what Kael Pindanon was saying was true. That he was going insane. Ander shook these thoughts from his head and stood up, feeling the creak of bones from sitting so long. Mareth still sat and stretched her legs from the chair, pointing her feet towards the throne room doors.

"You are not going insane idiot". A voice appeared out of nowhere. Ander quickly looked all around the room but could not find the origin of the voice.

"Did you hear that?" Ander asked Mareth. A quick nod of her head said yes, yes she did. Mareth stood up quickly, wishing that she had her staff with her. Once again she felt defenceless without her ability to use magic. The palace guards were on high alert and also confused where this mysterious voice was coming from.

"Over here" Ander turned left where he heard the voice, whisper in his ear. Still there was no one there. Mareth also turned around suggesting the hidden figure did the same to her. They both now faced the throne.

Suddenly a figure appeared sitting on the throne.

"I think I'll have this seat" said the figure. Ander looked at this figure with some familiarity, though he did not know where. The voice was familiar, eerily so. He recognised this figure. This figure in black who was showing no discernible features besides a huge mischievous grin.

"Don't worry you will get there in the end, your highness" and the figure in black rose up. The guards responded with their swords drawn. Now that the figure stood up, all could clearly see it was a woman. She was about 5'7' and wore formfitting black clothes. Her dark clothes was close around her figure which was more full and curvy. Her legs were strong and sturdy, her arms were similar but more lithe and graceful, and her wrists seemed particularly delicate. Ander could see her hair was a dark blonde that framed her heart shaped faced and fell just below her shoulders. She looked around twenty-three, so a few years younger than him. Her eyes were the darkest of blues and while there was nothing particularly beautiful about her, there was something. Another thing that Ander could not put his finger on.

The figure seemed oblivious to the danger that surrounded her. She only had eyes for Ander and each maintained their gaze with one another, while the figure in black descended the white marble steps from the throne. Mareth and the guards were unsure what to do. Ander and this mysterious person looked at each other like they know another. Mareth just stared at the two, not liking the fact she could not use her magic which felt like lighting on her fingers.

After what seemed like an age, it finally clicked in Ander's brain where this mysterious figure was from.

"It's you, isn't it? You are the one that saved me." The figure smiled at Ander and walked into the middle of the throne, turning to face the two royals.

"Yes it is I. I told you, you would get it" the figure in black said in a smug tone.

Ander gazed at amazement. So it was true, there was a figure in black, not a figment of his imagination.

Ander's amazement did not last long however. This was primarily because the figure in black was giving him a very pissed off facial expression. Ander became a little bit scared.

"Now what in the name of the Ellcrys do you call your behaviour lately? I didn't go through all the trouble of fully restoring you to life for you to ruin it!" The figure in black's voice was never raised but all could tell, especially Ander, that she was annoyed beyond words. Her arms were crossed and she tapped her right foot on the ground. Ander was immediately having flashbacks to his childhood, when his mother and governess scolded him in the exact same fashion. He was also very confused and a tiny bit anger on why this stranger was telling him off.

"I'll tell you why mister. Do you know how much energy it takes to regrow a damm liver? To get the circulation going? To bring back the rest of the soul of a dying person?" Ander shook his head.

"Well not enough to be thanked by the person drinking and partying their new body away!" Ander could see now that the figure was becoming agitated. "I go away for a year expecting a King when I returned – what the hell happened?" The figure's face was scrunched and she glared at Ander, making her blue eyes seem black.

The figure hit a nerve there and Ander overcame his confusion.

"What right do you have to question me? I am your Prince! You have no right at all" Ander said, his voice overflowing with anger. Like the figure in black though, he never raised his voice.

"You are no Prince of mine. There is no royalty alive that I commanded to. Even the royal house of Elessedil." The figure stood defiantly in the middle of the throne room, squaring her shoulders, her fists clenched.

"But I digress. I did not come here to fight."

"Then why are you here then and exactly who are you." Mareth finally using her voice. She was fed up of being left out on the side. Mareth realised there was some bond between the figure and Ander, something which affected them both. Mareth was the only one that could be objective in this situation.

"My name is Laurenina and I am to be Prince Ander's bodyguard." Laurenina uncrossed her arms. Her head still proudly forward. No, Laurenina would not bow under pressure from these royals.

Ander was in disbelief. "No you are not" he said adamant in that fact.

"Yes I am. It's not up for debate" Laurenina it seemed could match the Elessedil stubbornness with one of her own.

Ander did not like way she spoke of him in such matters. He felt like she was talking to a child then a twenty-nine year old prince of the realm. Already Pindanon treated him as such, he would not stand it against a complete stranger. Even if she did save his life.

Laurenina once again turned her blue eyes to Ander's.

"Why does Ander need a bodyguard?" Mareth asked. She felt like a governess with two arguing toddlers, each with their own convictions that could not be swayed.

Laurenina turned to look at Mareth. Mareth could see her eyes soften a little towards herself, though she did not know why.

"Because," Laurenina said, her voice strong and sure. "There is something coming. A great evil that the Ellcrys cannot stop. A great evil that is coming for this house and that throne." Laurenina ended her speech by pointing to the throne.

"What kind of evil?" Mareth asked.

"I cannot say princess, doing so would put you into even more mortal danger. You have to believe me" Laurenina almost pleaded to Mareth. What her tone did not say her eyes mostly certainly did. She was frightened of something, and Mareth had the feeling that Laurenina was not easy to be scared.

"Why should we believe you?" Ander asked. "You just pop in here unannounced and proclaim that there is mysterious evil coming."

Laurenina's eyes rolled. By the Ellcrys she thought, this is going to be harder than she thought.

"Been having any bad dreams lately my prince?" Laurenina asked, her voice was unnaturally sweet. "Nothing keeping you awake at the rising of the dawn?" Laurenina moved closer to Ander.

"How did you know that?" Ander maintained his gaze with her, he would not let this woman break him.

"Because I am your bodyguard. I know what goes in that mind of yours. And I know that the dreams are getting worse." Laurenina was getting close now. She stopped at an arm's length away from Ander, her eyes steady. Ander was sure he detected a tone of care at the end of her statement. For some strange reason, Ander accepted this explanation, though part of him knew that is was ridiculous. He looked over to Mareth, who was similarly complexed.

"You still haven't answered the question though. Why does he need a bodyguard?" Mareth could not stress this question enough. She needed to know what danger was coming. Ander was her only surviving relative, he would not die. Not until he had lived a good long life.

"Because this great evil can only take corporal form in our world by something that is in my mind. Because I am Ander's bodyguard, we share a mental bond. Though it is weak right now, this evil wants to use Ander via our mental connection and use that to gain its original body."

Ander looked at Laurenina and said with venom "So you are the reason for these dreams? You are the reason that my people look at me like I'm insane?" His eyes glared at her, and Laurenina dropped her gaze momentarily in shame. Only for a split second though and her eyes were looking at him again.

"This was decided centuries ago, you and me were forced into something that neither of us agreed to." This time there was venom in Laurenina's voice, like she knew something that Ander should be ashamed of.

There was silence in the air. Ander and Laurenina still staring at each other, in a staring contest stalemate. The palace guards were still in their positons, two at each side of the royals and two at the doors. Swords still drawn but resting downwards until they were called to action. Mareth still standing by her chair. The silence was becoming deafening and Mareth could not stand it any longer.

"If what you say is true, and for some reason I believe it is so, then you wouldn't mind proving that your intentions are good." Mareth decided to be diplomatic in this situation.

"This evil is not mentioned in any books. I cannot prove it through historical records." Laurenina said. "I am the only one alive who knows about it. The only other was the Druid Allanon."

Mareth was taken back with the mention of her father's name. His death still affected her, in the way of all the lost times she could have had with him but never would. The times of what could have been, was sometimes more painful than the memories of what was.

Laurenina walked back to the centre of the room. "What if I could prove that my magic is good? That my ability to protect Ander is from something that is good? Would you two then believe me?"

Mareth and Ander both looked at each other, trying to reach each other's mind through their eyes. Mareth turned to look at Laurenina. "How will you prove this?"

"There was originally more than three Shannara elfstones" Laurenina said, looking at both the royals to see that they believed her. There was hesitancy in their eyes and faces but at least they listened. Laurenina sighed, that would have to do for now. "Three of those stones were mixed with my family's bloodline due to services to the Shannara line. They made us stronger, faster and we had abilities we never dreamed of. Our skins became invulnerable, we could become invisible and produce shields out of nowhere. We became bonded with our charges and to a certain extent the remaining Shannara stones."

Mareth was unsure. Sure she had read somewhere in one of her magical books that the elfstones could interfere with bloodlines, but it was always unintentional never planned. That would acquire a huge force of magic, something that was never heard of.

"I can see in your face princess that you are unsure about the origins of my powers. I do not need a psychic bond for that." Mareth could see the girl smiling. What did she do to deserve such affection from this woman? Especially when the woman and her charge were less then civil with each other.

"I wish it did not need to come to this but I can see now it was the only way. I need to show you the bond I have with the elfstones." Laurenina gave her body a bit of wiggle, like she was preparing for a fight or something.

"You two better stand back" Laurenina said with an air of authority. Ander did so immediately, slightly confused by his actions. For some reason, like he knew that the sky was blue, which Laurenina, not matter how irritating, was actually looking out for him. Mareth was more hesitant but stood back none of the less. The guard kept their eye on this woman, even if the royals trusted her they would not until proven wrong.

"Okay here we go." There was a sudden flash of blue light that was filled the whole room. Ander immediately recognised the blue light as the one that saved him. By now being more alive than he was then, Ander could see that the blue light came from Laurenina herself. Her skin already pale, was now transparent with the blue light. Her dark blue eyes were now the brightest of blue. Ander could see the contrasts with his dream. While Catania was surrounded by darkness, Laurenina was surrounded around light. Ander felt despair and frightened in his dream, he had no such feeling with Laurenina, in fact, he was sure and happy. Whatever this blue light was – perhaps Shannara stone magic after all – Ander knew that it was good. Looking to his right he could see that Mareth felt similar, her face portrayed no negative emotions at all.

And then suddenly, just as brightly as it came – the light was gone.

Laurenina was on her knees, panting from her display. She looked up to both the royals, Ander first then Mareth. Ander for some reason or another went to Laurenina and got her right side and tried to help her up. He felt that he needed to, that it was the right thing to do. Mareth joined him and got her left side and steadied her up.

"That was amazing" Mareth said. "I did not know such magic still existed in this day and age." Her voice showed her awe at this woman. Perhaps she was the one that could show her how to use her magic?

"It was worth it, I hope." Laurenina said with a triumphant smile on her face. She leaned onto Ander as to keep her steady, almost refusing all help from Mareth. Laurenina knew what Mareth's next action was going to be, and she would rather not fall to the floor and break the marble. Though both Ander and Laurenina did not mind. It seemed that they were better at cooperating when words where left unsaid.

There was groan coming from the throne's direction and all turned to look at its source. Upon looking at its source Mareth dropped her arms, which would have resulted in Laurenina falling if she wasn't using Ander as a crutch instead. Mareth raised her hands to her mouth like she was away to catch a scream that did not came.

If there was any doubt that Laurenina was connected to the elfstones, there was now no more. For through her connection, she had brought through the most powerful wielder of them all in recent history.

For there lying on the white marble steps of the throne was Wil Ohmsford.


	5. Chapter 4

In that moment it was like time had frozen.

Ander holding Laurenina up, the guards as perplexed as ever, swords still drawn and ready, and Mareth in complete shock on what Laurenina had managed to do.

However, time was not frozen for Wil Ohmsford. He glanced quickly around the room, noting every single escape strategy that he could take. Sure, landing hard on these marble steps had given him some pain but none that he couldn't handle.

"Stop him" Laurenina whispered into Ander's ear. The amount of magic and energy that she had done was more then what she had expected, and she was exhausted to speak any louder.

But before Ander could signal the guards, Wil was already back on his feet speeding past them to the exit. Sadly, for Wil, he did not make it to the door, the others however were relieved.

"Halt!" Mareth shouted. Wil froze into place, halted by Mareth's magic. Mareth felt a rush throughout her body. It was like a welcome home celebration for her use of magic in over a year. She had read the spell in one of her old books but didn't dare try it out, for she hadn't found a safe place to practice just yet. People were still wary of her magic, even now she could see the guards, some that were her closest friends, eye at her warily.

Mareth's body came alive again after that wave of shock and she walked towards the frozen form of Wil Ohmsford still in mid-stride towards the exit. Slowly and cautiously, she stood in front of him and studied the face of the man that she loved. His supposed death had done nothing to diminish her feelings for him, as lost loves usually did on a person. His blue eyes still entranced her, and his full lips were just as she remembered. But those blue eyes were not looking at her with the love that she remembered from their last encounters. They looked at her with mistrust, loathing and contempt. Glancing at his hands, those lovely gentle healer hands that she remembered fondly, she noticed that they were hard and calloused more than before. There were scraps and burn marks across his arms. His blonde hair was ashen and grey.

"Stay away from me demon!" Wil hissed at her. "Your tricks won't fool me today!"

Wil struggled against the enchantment that this witch had placed on him. How dare they try the same old trick on him again? He knew it was not Mareth in front of him but a haggard demon witch. They might have changed the scenery, but this was not Arborlon, this was not Mareth and he was no fool.

Mareth watched Wil struggle against the enchantment, like one would watch a wild animal caught in a trap. Why was he calling her demon? What tricks was he talking about? This was not her Wil. Though he seemed like the Wil she had first met, where cowardliness and pain had surrounded him last time, it was replaced by anger and still more pain.

Ander watched these two with caution. Now he was the objective one in this situation where moments before it was Mareth. Though he was still holding up Laurenina, he could feel that she was regaining her strength.

"Just give me a minute" she whispered, with a slight grin on her face. "Woah, I haven't felt like this in years!"

Ander couldn't resist returning her smile, it had a childlike quality to it that begged to be returned to sender.

"What's the matter with him? This was not the Wil I had met before?" Ander whispered back. He was worried about Mareth. He knew the effect that losing Wil had on her and was afraid of what this reappearance would do to her. Ander watched those two and it felt that they were in a whole different world of their own. A world of heartbreak and pain. Ander looked at Laurenina for answers.

Finally regaining her strength back, but a feeling a little light headed she looked at the two lost lovers for herself. It pained her inside for what she had to do, knowing it would cause Mareth pain and heartbreak. She had learned long ago not to question her instructions, that these events had to go according to plan.

"He's come from a very dark place that few make out of, and of those survivors none were ever the same again" Laurenina said to Ander, gently removing herself from his helpful support. Ander looked confused, but she gave him a look of "I'll explain later" and walked over to Mareth and Wil.

Mareth was speechless, she was never speechless. She feigned speechlessness now and again as a tactical advantage, but she never felt as she did now. What could she say? Wil looked at her like she was a monster. She desperately wanted to touch his hands or his face, just to see if this was a nightmare or real life. Mareth understood a little now of what Ander went through in his dreams. Seeing the one that you loved turn into an unrecognisable monster did something to you that no-one else could understand. If she had felt frozen before then it was nothing to the numbness she felt now. She barely even registered Laurenina walking towards them.

Though Wil did notice. Who was this person? She was new. Was this a new mind trick from the harpies? Though he could not physically move his head, he watched her coming up from the side of his eyes.

Laurenina placed a hand on his left shoulder and whispered gently "Sleep", and Wil was down and out for the count.

"You can release him now Mareth", though no longer whispering Laurenina's voice was still gently.

Mareth closed her eyes and broke the enchantment. It was lucky that Wil was out of it, because as soon as the enchantment was broken, his body hit the marble floor of the throne room very hard.

"Guards take him to a cell" Laurenina said. The guards looked to Ander for confirmation, though if he was not here they would have done as she asked. Ander nodded his confirmation and two guards picked Wil Ohmsford up and took him out of the room.

Mareth turned towards Laurenina with fury in her eyes. "Why did you do that? He needs a healer not a prison guard!" The way Laurenina looked at her, made her angrier. It was maternal, like the way a mother would look at her angry child.

"Because he is in not the right frame of mind to be near people. You saw the way he acted near you, and you out of all of us was the one he was closets too!" Laurenina placed her hands onto Mareth's shoulders and felt Mareth's anger slowly dissipate. She brought this poor girl into her arms and held her close. This poor strong girl, Laurenina thought, she wished she didn't need to go through this, but life was unfair and cruel that way.

Ander watched as this woman who he had not known had existed an hour ago, hold his cousin like she had been part of the family for years. Laurenina turned her head to the left towards Ander and he could see the pain in her eyes. Ander walked towards these two woman that were now part of his life, with solemn footsteps.

"Its been a long day, go to your bed Mareth" Ander said gently, stroking her black hair. He looked at the guards and silently without words being needed, two stepped forward gently took their princess out this stranger's arms and escorted Mareth to her room.

Once Mareth was out of the room, Ander turned to face Laurenina, "Now its time that you tell me what the hell is going on?"

"I will but not here, in your room were there is a bit more privacy"

Ander agreed to her terms and they both walked out, flanked by the last two remaining throne room guards. The walk to his room felt like an age, down the white corridors and up the marble stairs. They finally came to the door to his room and went inside while the two guards stayed by the door.

Ander sighed and took off his coat and placed it back to his wardrobe. Laurenina for the first time in a while stood awkwardly by the door. Ander gestured to the trunk at the end of his bed to sit on and Laurenina went over to sit down. Ander remained standing and paced in front of her.

"Where would you like me to start?" Laurenina asked, her eyes moving with Ander's face.

Ander stopped and recollected his thoughts that were swarming around in his head. Pausing in front of her, he looked at her with determination in his eyes.

"I'll start at the beginning. Who the hell are you?"

"Like I said before, I am Laurenina and I am your bodyguard" she looked at him with such a look, Ander knew that she was telling the truth, but he also knew that she was holding something back. Her eyes burned with that knowledge and he wanted to know.

"There is more that you are not telling me" he said, leaning over her, his hands supporting him on the end board of his bed.

"There is, but I can not share that information with you. Not yet" and once again truthfulness sprang from her voice, eyes betraying no lies, just hidden knowledge.

"If you are my bodyguard as you claim to be, then there should be no secrets between us" he kept his gaze to Laurenina's unwavering one, hoping, praying that she would break and tell him.

"There can still be secrets between a bodyguard and their charge. I plan to tell you all soon, but not now not at this time." Her voice was strong and calm. She would not break today or any day.

Ander launched himself off the end board and continued to pace in front of Laurenina.

"At the very least," Ander sighed, "can you tell me what has happened to Wil? I can not stand to see Mareth like this." Rubbing his hand against the left side of his chin against his shortened bread, he paused waiting to hear what would come out of Laurenina's mouth.

Looking down, Laurenina did a sigh of her own before looking up to the impatient prince. Laurenina admired the care he had for his cousin and his people. She knew he would be King again but not without her help, and currently her help was telling him what she could.

"It's called Limbo in the old texts, or Purgatory in others. It is where lost souls go to before the decision whether they go to Heaven or Hell."

"Heaven? Hell?" Ander inquired.

"Its part of an old religion, if you do good in your life then you go the Heaven, where its paradise in the afterlife. If you do bad, then you go to Hell and get tortured for all eternity."

"And Wil was in this Limbo you say? But why was he there? Wil is a hero of the Four Lands, surely he would go this Heaven place?"

"Ordinarily yes but Wil didn't actually die." That caused Ander to stop.

"What do you mean he didn't actually die?"

"The Warlock Lord cursed him into that place. It was like a small revenge plan for whoever would try and succeed in killing him."

"So, he was sent to that place alive?"

"Yes, and for living breathing creatures, that place is the closest they will get to Hell. Its guarded by these monsters called harpies, who try to feast on people's souls, they usually succeed."

Ander looked at Laurenina with complete amazement. Rubbing his chin, he took a moment to gather himself.

"So, for over a year, Wil has been fighting off monstrous creatures for his very soul?"

"Yes" Laurenina looked down sadly, "And with him being tainted with Shannara stone magic, he would have been a high prize indeed, unlike anything that they would have encountered before."

"By the Ellcrys" Ander muttered. "No wonder he is the way he is." Ander paced for a few more seconds before stopping again. "We have to tell Mareth."

Laurenina stood up, "I completely agree with you but not now, a day or two at the most." The concern she felt for Mareth was obvious, she reached out and put her hands-on Ander's.

Ander nodded. "I agree, she can not handle this information right now. It would do her no good at all". He looked over Laurenina's shoulder and noticed the sky darkening. He sighed. It was almost time for the ritual nightmare. He felt Laurenina give his hands a reassuring squeeze.

"I promise, it won't be so bad tonight. Now that I am here your mental defences should be stronger." She let go of Ander's hands, this much contact with a charge was not permitted, the old bodyguard rules drilled into her head said.

"I'll be outside should you need me; do you want me to arrange for dinner? You haven't eaten much today" Laurenina asked.

Ander shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, its been a long day and I want as much sleep as I can for tomorrow." He headed to the right side of his room where his wardrobe was, looking as the last ray of sunlight left the Ellcrys. The summer was a better time for the nightmares. Dawn was earlier, and sundown was longer, he shuddered remembering the long nights of the winter.

Ander heard the click of his door closing and looked over his left shoulder to see his door closing. As silently as she came in today, so as silently as she left his room. Ander had no idea what to do about her, this bodyguard of his. He could not deny there was a bond between them, one of caring and protection. He turned to get changed into his linen night clothes, he forgo the shirt because of the summer heat, that so strong, it managed to bypass the coldness of the marble. Slipping into bed, Ander thought more of the events of today. What would he tell the Elven Council? What would he tell Mareth first? Could he trust this Laurenina woman? Could Wil turn back into the person that he remembered him as? The guy that Amberle trusted and loved? For what felt like the millionth time of the day, Ander let out a deep sigh, put his hand through his hair, closed his eyes and fell asleep. He did not need any drink to help him do so.

Laurenina grinned outside, knowing that she was slowly but surely getting Ander to his rightful place in the world. Standing directly in front of the door, she prepared herself for a long night of guarding her charge. The guards stationed outside, still glanced at her warily but trusted her a tiny bit more since this afternoon. She felt that though the day had its troubles, she could count it as a success.

But around about thinking this, she stopped smiling. Laurenina tensed up, readying her body for action. The guards followed suit, though they did not know what caused her to. For they could not see what she could.

A Shadow with no-one attached to it.

They are here.

* * *

 **Sorry guys for the long wait but within 2 months I've been forced to find a new place to live, had about 6 uni assignments in a month, moved out the seem week as the "beast from the east", had to figure out internet, electricity and moving into my new place. So its been a lot so hopefully this chapter will lessen any anger you feel for the waiting.**

 **As usual, Shannara Chronicles does not belong to me neither the Tv show or the books. I'm just a girl wanting Ander to get a better story from the Tv show. Tell me of any plot holes you see coming or have spotted, and any constructive criticism that will make my writing better is also greatly appreciated!**

 **Hope you all enjoy! - Reluctantly Untitled xxx**


	6. Chapter 5

The inhabitants of the Palace of Arborlon woke up in a variety of different ways.

Ander Elessedil woke up with a start from the nightmare that plagued him daily.

Mareth Elessedil woke up gently and with great sadness when she remembered the day before events.

Wil Ohmsford woke up in chains, having during the night escaped three times and assaulted four guards. Laurenina's order for a cell was taken with great reverence now.

Laurenina, however, did not sleep. Staying stationary in her spot in front of Ander's bedroom door, ever diligent from the shadow she saw the night before.

Ander Elessedil, though waking up at his usual dawn time, woke feeling less drained then before. Maybe what Laurenina had said was true, that his mental defences were now stronger now that she was here? He slowly breathed out, mentally going through the events of yesterday; the arrival of Laurenina, the equally shocking arrival of Wil, and Laurenina's knowledge of where he had been. What else did she know? How did she know this? And why did she save him? Having meet his rescuer face-to-face, Ander was filled with wonder of why him? If she wanted a fair monarch on the throne then Mareth could fill that role, so why was he so special? Sitting up on his bed, Ander looked towards the Ellcrys, once again filled with unanswered questions. Why did Amberle have to be the new Ellcrys? Why couldn't it have been any other of the Chosen? Or really anyone else? It had to be Amberle, fact. Everything that used to be fact for Ander was swept away. Fact, he had two brothers. Now he had none. Fact, he had no hope of being King. Now he co-ruled with Mareth, expecting to become King again. Fact, he was in love with two amazing women. Now they were both dead.

Ander fell back into bed, his head heavy with thoughts. Now he would have to deal with the High Elven Council and Kael Pindanon. Ander did not know how Mareth would be feeling today. She was dealt a huge blow yesterday. Luckily the meeting was after lunch so there was breakfast and lunch to restore her at least physically, mentally however was a different case all together. Where she had been strong for him, now he would do the same for her.

In a few suites down from Ander, Mareth was sitting up in bed feeling unsure in her feelings. Should she feel sad? Mad? Happy? So many options to feel but she had to pick one, at least for now. Especially for the High Elven Council meeting. Mareth dreaded the meeting. Kael Pindanon and her questioning stare, her haughty face and fake, sickly, sweet voice. Kael Pindanon was a predator waiting to make the killing move. Any sign of weakness could not be seen. Previously it had been Mareth protecting Ander, now Mareth realising it would be Ander protecting her. Not just from the emotions of it all but also to the fact that she had used magic. There would be consequences for that. While the Elven nation were more tolerant of the magical members, there was still a general wariness of it. Kael Pindanon was a main supporter in the regulation of magic and its users. Though Mareth decided to stop using her magic, she fought hard so that others would have the right to make that choice for themselves. There was compromise on some parts, such as the law for using dark magic but Mareth made sure that there were fair trials so that there would not be witch hunts like those of legends past. Kael Pindanon would be unpredictable in her reaction to the news. On one hand there was her strong advocacy against magic, on the other there was her desire to make Mareth her puppet monarch. Any disparaging news about magic would make Mareth's case, in Pindanon's eyes, less likely to be Queen. Not like Mareth cared, she never wanted to be Queen, she felt duty bound by a then unknown family loyalty and love for people to accept the throne, but Ander's arrival changed everything. Ander was her chance to leave this oppressive role, which she knew was not for her. She had to save the people from Pindanon's rule, but now, hopefully, that would be Ander's job soon. Maybe with this Laurenina by his side, there would be a chance for her to get back to the path she desperately wanted.

Mareth looked around her room. There were pretty stained-glass windows, delicately decorated furniture with floral and leafy designs in silver, and beautiful marble floors. But this was not her. This was far from the life she had lived with her mother. Did her mother feel the same way? Trapped by duty and honour? It was at this moment that Mareth never felt as close to her mother as she did now. Yes, knowing her mother she would have felt exactly the same way as she did right now. Mareth smiled at this acknowledgment. Her mother was a free spirit there was no doubt. Maybe that's why she fell for Allanon, a man surrounded by duties but still a free spirit like her. Mareth did not know.

In a few floors below Mareth, sat Wil Ohmsford in one of the Palace's cells. The cell was dark and sparse, however also clean and warm. Wil sat in the corner farthest away from the door, next to the straw mattress that was his bed. He was chained to the wall, after his last attempt to escape this illusion palace. However, Wil was starting to doubt himself. Where were the Harpies? Why was he treated so nicely? The guards had been gently with him at first and left him unchained, where the harpies would have chained him and tortured him right away. But maybe this was a ruse? Another cruel trick to give him hope? They had repeated the trick of showing him Mareth in Arborlon. He had lost count how many times they played that trick on him. He would run into Mareth's arms and then she would turn into an old haggard witch, cackling at him for his folly. It was lucky for Wil Ohmsford that he still had the Shannara stones with him. He credited his survival up to this point on them. It had taken the Harpies by surprise and he learnt to use them sparingly. He had to protect them. Not just from the harpies but also from the others like him. Trapped souls sent to that godforsaken place for one reason or another. Wil learnt not to help them, it was each person for their self or rather their soul.

Wil had to admit that this illusion was the best one yet. The look on the fake Mareth's face was so like her, he had almost felt guilt for hurting her so. But it was not her, Wil shook his head to add conviction to his thought. Mareth was far away, she was far away and safe from the horror of this world. Wil hoped and prayed to any high deity that she would never have to know this world and its devilish creatures. Mareth was too pure for this world, she was a light that could not be extinguished. If not for his feelings towards her but also to loyalty to her father, his mentor, Allanon. Mareth was to be the next Druid. Probably she already was. Wil smiled at that, yes, she would be the next great druid like her father before her. Maybe if he could ever leave this place and came back to the Four Lands, she would be there. Maybe the druid sleep could reunite each other because even though he stopped counting the days, he was sure that he had been stuck in this place for years, with the stones keeping him young. That's why Ander could not be there, he would be older and have a wife and kids. This Ander was as young as he remembered him to be. That could not be. He did not know this new figure in this game. The blonde women who made him sleep. She looked like someone that knew what she was doing in life, in general. Was this another person that the Harpies added to their games? Was it another Harpy? Wil did not know but he would be sure to find out.

In the floors above Wil and outside Ander's door, Laurenina stood in the same spot and same position from the night before. She would not move from her position until Ander left the room. That's what her training had taught her, so that is what she must do. She could not show fear. If the shadow knew that she was afraid then, it would come for her. She knew how it worked, what went on in its sick mind. It would be on high alert because of her presence, its why it wouldn't go for Ander like it had been before. Because Laurenina knew one thing that it did not realise she knew. It was as afraid of her as she was of it.

Laurenina could hear all the questions going on in Ander's head. No-one told her how this bond would feel once activated. It was like someone else just whispering into her ear, but instead of it feeling strange to hear, it just felt normal. It was weird. For now, though, the bond could only be one way.

Soon, Laurenina thought. Soon she could tell Ander everything. She did not like keeping secrets from her charge, like her father once told her it would be. She didn't like being the sole bearer of this knowledge. It burned inside her, ready to slip from her lips at any time.

She turned to look over her left shoulder at Ander's door. Moments later Ander emerged from his room, wearing black trousers, a black top and a dark grey coat. Simple, but royal, Laurenina thought.

"The Council meeting will be okay" Laurenina said, remembering his earlier worries about it.

Ander looked confused. How did she know? Then he remembered. That mental bond she talked about, he thought, it must tell her his thoughts as well.

"It's not the Council meeting, I'm worried about" Ander said. Ander moved down to the dining room for breakfast, he hadn't had much to eat yesterday, and he was starving. Laurenina was quick to follow him, like his little shadow.

"I know its Mareth, but she should be alright. We just need to give her time to process her emotions. I gave her quite a shock yesterday." Laurenina looked down in shame. She still did not like that she had to do that, but it worked. Ander and Mareth could not deny she had Shannara stones in her blood.

"So, I'm guessing this mental bond of ours includes reading my thoughts?" Ander said grinning at Laurenina. She looked down with some guilt but managed to look up to smile at him when they reached the steps.

"I'm sorry, I should have told in more detail what our bond entails. It's not just dreams we share but thoughts as well, but the bond is one sided for now. Until we get used to each other." Laurenina said while, gracefully walked down the stairs behind Ander.

"So, I'll get to know what's going around in that mind of yours?" Ander teased.

"Only when you are ready and when it is time" Laurenina replied in an equally light tone. A smile was beginning to form again.

They reached the dining room doors and found them to be the only ones there. The long wooden table which could fit twenty-two people was remarkably undecorated, since it was just a normal royal family breakfast. The room, naturally, had the white marble ceiling, walls and floor of the castle, but where in other rooms it was cold and imposing, this room was bright and warm. There was a large fireplace on the opposite of the doors, but it would not be used today due to the scorching heat that had developed lately.

"Is the princess not coming for breakfast?" Ander asked a nearby servant.

"No, Your Highness, we were told the princess would be a little late this morning, she should be here soon." The kitchen servant said, and then proceeded to curtesy and continue to the kitchen for the rest of her tasks.

"Oh, I forgot to tell her to get a place made for you" Ander said, and was away to get the servant again.

"I'm not hungry but thank you for thinking of me" Laurenina said sitting down near to one of the placed settings.

Ander sat down beside her. His thoughts were once again filled about the Council meeting and especially of Kael Pindanon.

"Don't worry about this Kael Pindanon person. I've met numerous people like her in my lifetime, not one has beaten me yet." Laurenina said, her tone smug.

Ander grinned with glee. This should be an interesting council meeting.

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 **And here is a little bit of a filler chapter to see where everyone is after the events of yesterday.**

 **Hope you enjoy and that I answered any questions in your reviews, which I greatly appreciate.**

 **Reluctantly Untitled**


	7. Chapter 6

This was an unmitigated disaster.

This was the thought going through Kael Pindanon's head. Her face was neutral as she was currently in the council chambers, surrounded by the rest of the High Elven Council. The rest of the Council couldn't know about it. That a random blonde woman was guarding the prince and that a hero of the Four Lands, the last living Shannara, was locked up in a guarded cell.

This was not the plan, Pindanon seethed silently. This was not the plan at all. She had it all sorted it out. She would use that bastard Mareth girl to be her little puppet. She had easily persuaded that girl to take the crown. Pindanon laughed at that memory, seeing that girl crumble so easily over the power of her words. This girl was meant to be the next great Druid? Pindanon thought not. The girl she knew could barely rule a courtyard ball game then the nation. Sure, Mareth had rebelled now and again, the occasional outing to the city, voicing some of her opinions at the Council meetings, but nothing that Kael could not handle once the crown would be upon her head.

Then Ander came back.

That's when it went downhill. The former King had inspired new rebelliousness into the new-found princess. Where once Kael Pindanon could control Mareth with no other option but to be Queen, now she had a way out. There was hope in the princess's eyes, hope of a chance to slip out of the sovereignty she was forced into, and the vison of the world that Pindanon had slipped away with it. Pindanon was happy with the development of Ander's nightmares. That had giving Pindanon time and opportunity to try to dissuade the council of Ander's rule. She could say that he was obviously mentally incompetent to take the throne. That the three months that Ander could not account for was a lie or that something sinister had happened, so therefore he could not be trusted. The one thing that Pindanon could not account for was the people's reaction. Pindanon wanted the people to mistrust Ander, to shun him. After all, he was the King that no one had wanted, he was the man that should have not been King. How could the man whose actions left his brother and heir of the throne dead, and his niece orphaned, be the King that his people would proud of? But proud those people were and are. Ander's act of sacrifice for the nation, for giving up his love, for it was certain that that news had spread like wildfire after the tragedy at the wedding, so that his people could regain the security that they had from previous reigns was well-received through out the populace. Yes sure, some had been swayed into her side, that Ander couldn't possibly rule again, he had had his chance and now it was someone else's turn.

But it was not the people that Pindanon had to convince, it was the High Eleven Council. The highest power before the throne in the nation. Ever since Pindanon was young and knew what power could do, she had wanted a seat at that council. Sure, Kael knew that she could never sit on the throne, so she had reassigned herself to be the power behind the throne. But the Elessedil monarchs seemed to have no need for that. That was something that the Elessedils could do very well, they had this hidden power within their blood. Pindanon thought regretfully, it was in their very blood to rule. Maybe even more then the Shannara of yesteryears had, this dynasty had no Shannara stones to corrupt their minds. The High Elven Council was more difficult than Pindanon had first imagined, but like all creatures on this earth, some were more easily corruptible then others. A little money transferred, a favour returned with rewards, it was just so easy, Pindanon thought, so easy to gain the power and to lose it. For surely, she was losing it. The appearance of Ander and this ridiculous People's Day idea had renewed faith into the High Elven Council, and they had dared to try to defy her. She had already lost at least one from her cause, and she knew that she would lose more.

Especially with the news that she had just heard. If her spies were correct, then the Prince was not heard to be screaming during the night. This would the first time since he came back that there were no screams to be heard in the night. That meant there was a chance that Ander could be better. And plans that Pindanon had amended in Ander's reappearance, would fall.

Pindanon was sure that this had something to do with that blonde woman. Laurenina it was said was her name. Proclaimed to the prince and princess that she was Ander's bodyguard and nothing on this earth would dissuade her from her duty. Pindanon's sources had said that this Laurenina had used Shannara magic to bring back Wil Ohmsford. That she was the one to bring Ander back to his people. There was whispers and rumours running amok in the palace. Was she a witch? A demon in human form? Pindanon knew not but she was sure to get to the bottom of this mystery no matter what. Pindanon was thoroughly fed up of these people just appearing out of nowhere, changing everything that had been ever known, and probably leading to nation into its darkness just to save it. She will not allow it to happen again. Her reports said that this woman had mentioned an unspeakable evil that was to come for the Elessedil family and the nation was worrying to say the least. Who could not say that this woman was the unspeakable evil? A wolf in sheep's clothing? Yes, Pindanon thought, yes, she could work with this idea. Sway the Council to condemn the woman before she even spoke a word. Pindanon needed the support, with already this woman being seeing being part of the Prince and Princess's company for both breakfast and lunch.

Pindanon had no doubt that this Laurenina would also be coming to the council meeting as well. If she was what she had proclaimed then, she would right by Ander's side. Pindanon could not wait to bring this woman, no this girl, down a peg or two. Already her reports came in of Laurenina's regal nature, her gracefulness and a diplomatic air about her when she spoke. This spoke of a high education, but Kael did not know of any of the noble houses having a manic girl who claimed to be Ander's bodyguard. Pindanon had informers in every great house, and none would defy her enough to keep that piece of information to themselves. At least, that is what Kael Pindanon thought so. These last few years have defied everything she thought she knew about the world around her, and the rules she thought she knew. Like acts in a play to keep the audience interested, something was always changing, the world was always on the brink of war or destruction. It was maddening and confusing and Pindanon grew tired of it. With Mareth as Queen, then I could make the country stable and secure again, Kael thought, and no more unnecessary strife. With this thought in her head, Kael Pindanon smiled ever so slightly, so not to give away her thoughts to her fellow Council members.

Kael Pindanon turned her head to the sound of the door opening. Entering the room was the Prince and Princess and that girl. The Prince seemed to be in higher spirits then he would usually be, wearing black trousers, a black top and his dark grey coat without the elaborate detailing that was reserved. The Prince was smiling at what the girl had said, some joke or something humorous. The Prince rarely smiled nowadays and even then, this bright smile he was showing, was usually reserved for the Princess. Speaking of the Princess, she was the one that looked that she had nightmares all night instead of the Prince. Her eyes were slightly darkened, and while she usually held her head high, now it was instead downcast and heavy with her worries. The Princess wore a simple light blue top with dark skinny trousers, her hair up in the style she had on when she first entered the Palace. She too had a smile on her face. Finally, Kael Pindanon looked at the girl, that she knew would cause a whole stream of disaster for her and the nation. Yes, she would agree with the reports that there was a regal air about her, her movements, even walking into the room, were precise, calculated, planned and graceful. Pindanon would also agree with the reports that though the girl was perhaps leaned onto the side of pretty, she was no beauty that wars would fight over. What Pindanon's reports had not mentioned was her eyes. Dark blue as the sky before a thunderstorm, they held knowledge in them. Knowledge that burned to get out, Pindanon could see that. It added to the great mystery over this girl.

The Prince and Princess made their way over to their seats that had been moved back from the throne room. The girl moved to Ander's left side, her eyes darting around the room, looking for something that Kael Pindanon knew not what. The girl's eyes then proceeded to look over the council members, seemly mentally characterising them in her head, finding and gathering information in her head. Then she looked at Kael Pindanon and Pindanon stared back. There was smugness in her evaluation of her, Pindanon thought, like that of opponent seeing their rival for the first time and knowing that they will win no matter what happens. Kael Pindanon did not like this look. Pindanon was now even more sure that she would bring this girl down and straight out of the Palace and her plans would continue as normal. Yes, Pindanon thought, you do not stand a chance against me.

The Prince coughed to get attention on him and Kael Pindanon turned to face him, breaking the non-verbal sparring match she had with his new "bodyguard". The Prince seemed to smile looking to both Laurenina and Pindanon, seemly aware of what had occurred.

"Let's get this meeting started, then shall we?"

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 **Hi everyone, so sorry for this long update just a lot of exams and work being done. I hope you enjoy this chapter based on Kael Pindanon's view. I admit it is more of a filler chapter then anything but I'm adding it to get my timeline in set.**

 **I like to thank for all of your lovely reviews, though I will address a concern that had appeared. I've addressed the place where Wil Ohmsford had been as Purgatory and my references of Heaven and Hell, have been seen as bible preaching which I can assure was not my intention and was just used as a reference material and not to cause any concern of bible pushing onto people. I have also been told the place that Wil went to in the show was actually the Forbidding but I tweaked it into him going to this place instead for the sake of my story. Please forgive me and hopefully stay tuned for the rest of the story!**

 **Please continue reviewing to address any concerns and any constructive criticism is much appreciated!**

 **Also I don't own the Shannara Chronicles in any media, shape or form.**

 **Reluctantly Untitled x**


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